


I Knew I Loved You (Before I Met You)

by Reddragon1995



Category: Game of Thrones (TV Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cyber stalking, Dany is an heiress, Dragonstone, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jon is a caretaker, Multiple chapters, Stranger lust, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17773418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reddragon1995/pseuds/Reddragon1995
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen returns to a homeland she never knew to claim an inheritance. She thinks she’s sworn off men, but a sexy stranger makes her reconsider.





	I Knew I Loved You (Before I Met You)

Daenerys Targaryen was horny.

 

There was no delicate way to put it. She needed a good fuck, and she needed it soon.

 

It had been months since she’d had a man inside her, not since she left Daario.  And she thought could go without it, certainly. She had a vibrator, a healthy collection of erotic fiction, and her own hands if all else failed. And she’d promised herself when she ended things with him that she was going to take some time to care for herself, pursue her interests, cultivate friendships, and take more risks.

 

The latter, she’d done with aplomb.  When a great-uncle she never knew existed - the last of her family, as far as she knew - passed away and named her his heir, the decision had been easy. She packed a few bags and left Meereen behind, and returned to the homeland her family had departed before she was old enough to remember, to settle on the island of Dragonstone, in her deceased uncle’s rickety old villa. It was a shabby poolside unit, complete with faded, peeling wallpaper with a hideous blue floral print, a dishwasher that was probably pre-dated the Doom…. and a sexy as fuck caretaker who seemed to enjoy swimming late-night laps in the pool.

 

She was annoyed that he took up so much space in her head, but every time she conjured his image in her daydreams, she felt the nagging twinge between her thighs, the quickening of her pulse, moisture gathering like dew in her knickers.  She hadn’t come here for this. She’d come to take a respite from men and the complications of sex and relationships. She’d come to claim her meager inheritance. He shouldn’t have this effect on her, that her thoughts would wander so easily to scenes of him kissing her into a frenzy, diving between her thighs to taste her wetness, slamming his body into hers, fucking her mad. More than once, she’d had to make use of that vibrator, her eyes squeezing closed as she came hard with his name on her lips.

 

_ Jon. _

 

They hadn’t even had a proper conversation.  Mr. Seaworth, the property manager, had introduced them of course, but he’d barely mumbled two words to her before continuing about his business, which, to her delight that day, was weed-eating the courtyard, his sweaty tee-shirt clinging to the lean but defined muscles of his chest and torso, and his well-worn jeans hugging his luscious ass like a longtime lover.  And that was just his body. From her brief glimpses of him in daylight, she noticed his coffee-brown eyes, piercing and soulful. He had a well-groomed beard and moustache that framed his full, pouty lips, the taste of which she’d spent every night since imagining. He kept his unruly black curls pulled back with a tie, but usually when he came to the pool at night, he allowed them to fall free with a wildness that, in her fantasies at least, mirrored his ways in the bedroom.

 

It had been the most frustrating month she could remember in a long while.

 

Surreptitiously, she attempted some online stalking, but he didn’t appear to have a social media presence.  Jon Snow. She typed his name in the search bar, then emphatically pecked at the backspace key, berating herself for her desperation.  From what she could tell, he was about her age. He lived on the property in the caretaker’s cottage, and she hadn’t seen any signs of a wife or girlfriend or family, just a large white dog she’d caught sight of a time or two.  He seemed to stay pretty busy during the day, but somehow their paths had not often intersected, as she couldn’t really think of any excuse to trouble him.

 

Although the mystery of him had yet to unravel, Daenerys had developed a nightly ritual of peering out of her patio door, watching him swim, his strokes sure and quick, his muscles taut as a bowstring. As far as she knew, he was unaware of her voyeurism, and she preferred to keep it that way, lest she scare him off. Like clockwork, he would arrive at half-past ten, the dim underwater light illuminating his figure, and he’d peel off his tee-shirt, stretch his arms, and dive in, graceful as a bird swooping down to catch its prey. He would swim at least ten laps, rhythmically, down and back, down and back, his endurance impressive, indicating that he possessed a great deal of stamina for other, less clothed activities.  And the way he looked in his trunks…..gods, everything about him made her want to tie him up and not let him go until she’d had him in every way possible. 

 

Unfortunately, she wasn’t accustomed to being the aggressor. She was assured in her sexuality and allure, and she never had to work very hard to attract male attention.  She could play along, flirt and fuck with confidence in her skill, but something about Jon Snow made her quite hesitant to make her move without a hint of interest from him, and there had been no interest shown that she could detect.  In fact, it seemed he was barely aware of her existence. Perhaps his indifference was the main ingredient in this tonic of desire. He was not going to be easy.

 

But after four weeks of pining from afar, and many nights of taking matters into her own hands, lest the ache in her core be unbearable, an opportunity arose. A formal introduction would be made, and she would have a captive audience.

 

She was as ready as she was going to be, though the butterflies in her stomach felt more like bat’s wings.  Her heart thudded with anticipation though she tried to calm herself, soaking in the tepid water, observing the tiny waves lapping at her skin.  Her suit was sexy enough, a black two-piece with a ruffled bra and red polka dots, her favorite color combination. Her breasts were not ample, but the top cupped them perfectly, giving the illusion of cleavage.  The bottoms sat low on her hips, revealing a peek of her pelvic bones. She’d had to wax herself as best as she could, as Dragonstone was wont for such professional services, but luckily she hadn’t done any damage.  She hoped he’d appreciate it, once he saw it, and she intended to show him very soon.

 

Her heart seized when she heard him approaching, and she made her way to a shadowed corner of the pool, opposite of where he usually dove in, waiting for just the right moment to make her presence known. Thank the Seven, he followed his usual ritual, peeling off his tee-shirt and stepping under the shower head attached to a narrow post.  _ Following all the rules,  _ she mused.  _ Who else actually showers before entering the pool? _  But she wasn’t going to complain at the sight, as the frigid water sluiced over his hard body, beading on his pale skin, adhering his curls to his neck.  _ Beautiful, _ she breathed silently, forcing her mouth closed at the first real up close view of him practically unclothed.  If only she could see what was under those board shorts.

 

He shut off the water and strode over to the pool side, but instead of diving in as usual, he stood still for a moment, almost as if he sensed her presence.   _ Time to move,  _ she thought, taking a deep breath to bolster her courage.

 

“You should come on in. The water’s lovely tonight.”

 

He practically jumped out of his skin, and she pushed away from the pool wall to bring herself into the path of the underwater light.

 

“Sorry,” he muttered, backing away.  “I….I didn’t know anyone else was here.” He made his way toward the chaise over which his tee-shirt was draped, and her heart sank.

 

_ Don’t go,  _ she willed silently, thinking fast. “It’s not a problem is it?  I know it’s after hours.”

 

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”  He pulled his tee-shirt over his head, and she was momentarily speechless as the motion caused his trunks to slip lower on his hips, exposing that tantalizing “V” that pointed south to what was hidden beneath the material, a package she so desperately wanted to unwrap.  

 

Daenerys swallowed an audible gasp and summoned her composure. “I’m Daenerys,” she said. “We met, a few weeks back.”

 

“I remember.”  He ran his towel over his face and hair, squeezing out the excess moisture, but didn’t move otherwise.  “You’re the new tenant. The heiress.”

 

“Heiress, hardly,” she said dumbly, cringing.  To play it off, she fanned her legs and arms around and stroked over to the ladder nearest where he stood, but decided against exiting the pool just yet.  She’d save that for later, if she needed. Perhaps she could still coax him into the water with her and let nature take its course, though she knew this seduction wouldn’t happen in one night. He was too reserved for that. “And you’re Jon….sorry I can’t recall your last name?”

 

“Snow.  It’s Snow.”

 

“Jon Snow. Very succinct.”

 

“It suits me.”

 

He hadn’t tried to run just yet.  He was standing there, in all his dripping wet glory, talking to her.  This was good. She placed her arms on the lip of the pool wall, resting her chin there and smiling slyly up at him.  “Well I assure you, Jon Snow, I’m usually a stringent observer of rules and regulations, but I couldn’t resist taking a dip tonight.  My apartment is absolutely sweltering.”

 

“Yeah, it’s been a hot day,” he agreed, “and no relief in sight.”  He reached back and pulled a lawn chair toward him, taking a seat, crossing his legs in front of him….not long legs, but shapely and muscular and connected to the most perfect male ass she’d ever seen. Her thirst was palpable, her throat going dry, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth

 

“It’s not just the heat,” she said.  “I was trying to turn my air on earlier, and I think my thermostat is broken, because it seems like the furnace kicked on instead, and now it won’t shut off.” In  truth, she wasn’t terribly regretful about it, as she knew it would require an interaction with her current, very handsome company.

 

On cue, his spine straightened and he stood.  “You should have called me. I could have come to...see about it anyway. That is my job.”

 

“I know, but I was gone most of the day. I turned it on this morning and left and by the time I got home, I...I suppose I just didn’t want to trouble you.” 

 

Well, that part wasn’t exactly true.  She knew perfectly well that he was at the beck and call of the handful of tenants in this complex, but she certainly didn’t want have her first proper conversation with him under those circumstances.  And she knew she could catch him at the pool, wearing her sexiest swimsuit, with him half-naked as well, a situation far more conducive to the outcome she desired.

 

“I’ll have a look right away,” he said, his earnestness charming. She could tell he was quite a serious man. “Can’t promise I can repair it tonight, but at least I can see what’s going on.”

 

“In your board shorts?” She inclined her head, and could not stop her eyes from roving up and down his form. She thought she saw his cheeks redden, but could not be sure.  He did shuffle nervously, and she hoped that was a positive sign.

 

“Um...No.  I’ll have to grab my tool kit and change.  But you stay here as long as you like, and I’ll let you know what I find.” 

 

He kicked his feet back into his sandals and scurried off into the dark, and she enjoyed the view until he disappeared around the corner.  He returned not five minutes later, but didn’t say anything as he slipped through her patio door into her bedroom, where the heating and cooling unit was concealed in a tiny closet.  She hoped her room was clean. She thought it was, anyway, though she realized in a moment of horror that she may have left her vibrator on the bedside table. She prayed he wouldn’t notice it, or, if he did, that he would either not realize what it was, or, it would intrigue rather than offend him. She allowed her train of thought to follow that path, imagining his cock hardening at the idea of her using that tool to get herself off thinking of him. He wouldn’t be far off, after all….

 

“Well, do you want the bad news first, or the worse news?”

 

She was startled from her enticing dream by his voice, his accent more noticeable than it had been earlier. Northern, maybe?

 

“Surprise me,” she replied, deciding to pull out all the stops now.  She kicked over to the ladder and ascended, then slowly stood upright on the deck and adjusted her bikini bottoms before turning to face him.  In the dark, his expression was inscrutable, but she hoped she had the desired effect as she sauntered over to the chaise beside him to retrieve her towel, though she made no effort to cover herself immediately, instead taking great pains to unfurl her long hair from its messy bun and squeeze it dry.  She thought it was working when it seemed like he’d forgotten what he had to say to her, but he collected himself soon enough.

 

“You were right, the thermostat was shot. I replaced it with a digital one,” he explained, and she noticed that his eyes were going to great lengths to avoid landing on her chest.  “The bad news is, the AC unit is fried. So the furnace isn’t running now, but you’re apartment is like an oven. I...I don’t know if you have anywhere else you could stay tonight, maybe a...a friend?”

 

“No friends here,” Daenerys said, her lips turning to a pout. “None anywhere, really, not since I left Essos.”  Her towel tease rendered ineffective, she secured it around her chest and tucked in the ends. 

 

“Well, you can’t stay in there, not tonight,” Jon reasoned. “We can crack the windows and I can get a floor fan to get the air circulating, but it won’t get much cooler, and Davos’ HVAC guy isn’t sure he can be here until the day after tomorrow.”

 

That was an inconvenience.  She could keep herself busy enough during the day, but sleeping could be an issue. She preferred to sleep nude, but even then it would be too hot to bear.  “Any suggestions?” she wondered, taking a step toward him.

 

“The other units are vacant, no beds or furniture.”

 

“I noticed.”

 

Jon inhaled sharply, “I guess…..I guess you could stay with me in the caretaker’s cottage.  It’s not much but I could take the couch and you could sleep in my bed.”

 

Now that was intriguing.  The thought of wrapping herself up in his bedclothes, spending the night basking in the scent of him, in his home….her knees felt weak.  “I would never put you out of your own bed. The couch will do.”

 

“Well...it’s covered with dog hair,” Jon warned sheepishly.  “Take the bed, I insist. Go grab your night clothes and something for tomorrow if you need it, I’ll wait here.  And you’re welcome to my shower, if you need it.”

 

Now she was blushing, images flashing through her mind of showering in his home, hopefully with him deciding to join her, his hands roaming over her wet, naked body, before sinking to his knees and……

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, then she scurried inside her apartment, the heat hitting her face like dragon flame.  First thing, she glanced at her bedside table, heartened that her vibrator was nowhere in sight. She grabbed some underclothes, a night shirt, and pair of denim shorts and a white ribbed tank top for the next day.  Slipping into a pair of flip flops and collecting her shampoo, face wash, and a comb and shoving everything in a knapsack, she stepped back outside to find him waiting, just as he said he would, and wordlessly they walked to the other side of the complex, where his cottage sat.

  
  
  


She woke the next morning, bleary-eyed but well-rested, to the smell of coffee percolating in the kitchen below the loft area that served as Jon’s bedroom.  She closed her eyes and inhaled, then opened them again with a start as she remembered where she was. She was wearing her night shirt, but comfortably soft sheets caressed her skin.  She sank her head into the fluffy pillow, turning to her cheek and inhaling again, taking in Jon’s scent. She recalled that he’d made the bed fresh for her the night before, but his essence still lingered, the scent of sea air and firewood and soap, a calming effect on her.  She strained her ears and heard the sound of the shower running, smiling to herself that she’d strategically left her bikini hanging behind the door, hoping it would raise his curiosity. From her vantage point on the bed, she could see him exit the bathroom, clean and dry and shirtless, with sweatpants draped over his hips, resting perfectly.

 

Gods, his ass.  A work of art. She sent up silent thanks to his mother, whomever the woman was.  He was too fucking beautiful for this world.

 

“Oh, hello, there,” he called up to her.  I’ve made some coffee.”

 

Still gathering her bearings, she found herself disappointed to remember that nothing more than cursory hospitality had occurred between them the night before.  He’d shown her to the shower and whatever else she might require for the night, changed the bedclothes, introduced her to his beastly white dog, that seemed to accept her pretty readily, and bid her good night.  Surprisingly, she’d fallen asleep straightaway, and could not remember her dreams. 

 

Carefully she rose, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and descended the steep spiral stairway to the kitchen area below, where he met her with a coffee mug in his hand, which he offered her.

 

“I wasn’t sure how you take it.”

 

She bit her tongue hard to keep from telling him exactly how she’d like to take it, but accepted the proffered mug, and smiled to herself as it boasted a photo of the dog Ghost, emblazoned with the words “World’s Best Dog Dad.”

 

“It was….kind of a joke,” he told her.  “My old girlfriend said I liked my dog more than I did her. Cream or sugar?”

 

“Neither,” Daenerys said, taking a sip, surprised that she liked the taste.  “I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee in ages. Once you’ve had a Meereenese blend, it’s hard to go back.”

 

“Well, I’m no expert on foreign coffee blends, but this is right tasty,” he replied tipping his mug toward her before taking a swig, his dark eyes peering at her over the rim of the mug.  She felt her cheeks flush and did the same. 

 

They finished their coffee in pleasant silence as they took turns perusing his copy of the  _ Times  _ is of King’s Landing, him concentrating on the crossword puzzle as she scoured the classified ads for used furniture and job postings.  What a refreshingly domestic scene it must have looked, and it filled Daenerys’ heart with a contentment she’d not felt for many years, if ever.

 

After coffee, he headed out to start his day and she returned to her apartment, which had mercifully cooled a bit. She decided to spend the day on the beach, sketching the odd rock formations, and wildlife, the ruins of the old castle, and trying to capture the sense of motion of the waves crashing on the shore. She collected seashells and found a few pieces of what she thought was called obsidian, the shining black reminding her of her would-be lover’s eyes. She allowed her mind to wander again to him, working out how to make her next move, or encourage him to make his. She thought,  _ thought,  _ anyway, that she’d caught sight of a familiar look in his eyes that morning, the look that signaled a man’s desire of a woman, but she couldn’t be sure. Though he was hospitable, he was still guarded and taciturn, and she’d done most of the talking. She did discover that he’d been quite fond of her heretofore unknown uncle, Aemon, and that the old man had gone blind in his later years, so Jon took it upon himself to check on him several times a day, to run errands for him or fix his supper, and to spend Sunday mornings with him, taking him to the sept, listening to stories of his lost family and years of service as a Maester of the Night’s Watch. Jon’s recollections were so fond, Daenerys considered that the old man should have named the youngster his heir, for they seemed as close as family.

 

So, in addition to being delicious enough to eat, Jon was an animal lover, he was handy with a power tool, and he was kind to the elderly. If she wasn’t careful, she might just wind up falling in love.

 

If he turned out to be even halfway decent in bed, she’d be done for.

__________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> My first go at a modern AU. Let me know what you think! I suck at titles and I cannot stand the song with the same title but it seems appropriate for now.


End file.
